Getaway
by Shadowpool95
Summary: Walking out of 2J, I felt like crying. Or screaming. Or both. (Why Lucy left for that European tour. Lucy POV. Short Oneshot)


Okay. It may be official. Scott Fellows may just hate us all and wants to destroy our hopes and dreams. This means War. (Metaphorically.) In other words, I finally talked myself into watching Big Time Rides and Big Time Tests. Yeah, Big Time ripping apart my feels ,_, I need a hug.

Now I know this isn't an update of 'Just What I Needed', and it isn't very long, but I think we might all need this. Because once again Lucy is NOT with Kendall, except this time it's worse; she's just, like, gone O-O

- Shadow

**P.S. – It's in Lucy's POV. It takes place right after she walks out of the Crib in the end of Big Time Rides. (You know, when James makes a fool of himself by driving a motorcycle THROUGH A WALL)**

* * *

Walking out of 2J, I felt like crying. Or screaming. Or both.

Yeah, both sounds really good right now.

However, I did neither. I just played the part of an in-control, over-her-ex rockstar and walked into my apartment, which happened to be _right next to_ the Crib, and slammed the door. Pressing my back against the thin slab of wood that was the only thing keeping the outside world at bay, I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the doorknob until I was sure it would break.

What was I thinking? That I could- What? Go out with James and just forget about-

I let out a deep breath that I hadn't been aware of holding and forced my muscles to relax. My grip on the knob came with it, and I slowly slid down the door and hugged my knees to my chest.

I was trying to be the bigger person here. I really was.

Jo had known him longer. He chose her.

Not me.

Even if I knew there was a part of him that wasn't really sure. About his decision. About her. About me.

I was trying to respect his choice and _not_ beg him to change his mind.

But I was this close to begging.

Apparently I couldn't pretend he and I were 'Just Friends'.

I didn't know why I thought _James_ could make me forget about Kendall. They were just too… different? I couldn't help but compare everything he did around me to what Kendall would have done. And it doesn't help that I see Kendall almost every day. That I talk to him. That he's _there._

And that's what hurts.

I turned around and punched the wall next to me, cursing loudly when I felt my knuckles split. A warm drop of blood trailed down my fingers.

Great. There it was. The thought I had been trying to keep out of my head.

It _hurts._

It hurts that he left me.

It hurts that he turned out to be just like all the other assholes I've known.

It hurts that he found a way around my walls and tore them down.

He hollowed me out.

And what's left?

Me, barricaded behind my walls, hurting, and broken.

And what hurts the worst? The fact that I can't tell him no. I _want _him back. I would love him again in a heartbeat. If I ever stopped.

It all makes me feel weak.

I just need to get away.

I grabbed a wad of Kleenex, used it to wipe my eyes and then pressed it to my knuckles.

Which, it turns out, is _not_ what you should do.

The salt from my tears burned the cut and brought on another round of cursing. I used my uninjured hand to slip my phone out of my back pocket, and fumbled around with the thing one-handed until I managed to punch in the number I wanted. Then I put the phone up to my ear and tried to control myself long enough for my words to sound stable.

My manager picked up.

"I need you to get me out of here," I said quickly before he could speak, and before I lost my nerve.

"_Where exactly did you have in mind?_" he replied after a pause.

I squeezed my eyes shut once again, forcing back a fresh wave of heartbreak. "Anywhere," I told him hoarsely. "Anywhere that's not here."

There was the muffled sound of papers being shuffled around on the other end of the line. Then, "_So does this mean you want me to say 'yes' to the offer of a tour in Europe?_"

I looked over at my axe guitar hanging in its place on the wall. That was certainly 'away'.

"Yeah," I managed before my voice cracked. I just hung up the phone. I didn't want to get into any explanations.

I had my getaway, and right now that's all I could handle.


End file.
